War Of The Ring: The Untold Tales
by TolkienScribe
Summary: While the men of the West converged to march a war against Sauron in Mordor, other fell creatures marched into the lands in the North. Thranduil, Dain and Brand face the evil creeping into their kingdoms. They gather their people in an attempt to fight. To live or to die. Untold Tales. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer: **Do not own in LOTR. All OCs belong to me.

**Warning: **War scenes. Dol Guldur scenes. This prologue is as dark as the story is gonna get.

Flames not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy!

**Do not forget to review! :)**

**~S~**

**Prologue:**

The air was tense.

He felt the air stifle him, hanging over all of them like a heavy blanket. The Warriors stood behind him in tight formation, jaws set and eyes ablaze in anger. Beside him, Thorontur shifted uneasily, his hand clamped around his sword.

"_This is madness, Sire." _The advisor said quietly.

"_I agree with him." _Hanon spoke up, his voice just as hushed. Thranduil glanced at the Head Commander of the Rangers. The pair never completely agreed on one thing, with the friendly rivalry of Warriors and Rangers standing between them. It made the situation much more serious when they were on agreeing terms.

He heard soft footsteps on his other side, and sighed inwardly. He knew who it was even before he heard him come to a stand beside him.

"_Fion, I would rather you watch this from afar."_

"_This is news of my former apprentice, Thranduil." _The black-haired Ranger said tightly, face set in a grim expression. _"I would watch it from close by."_

"_Fine," _Thranduil snapped. _"But you are not to draw your knives or your bow for any reason, and you are not to speak as well."_

"_Understood."_

Thranduil took in a deep breath and his voice rang out, full of authority with his emotions well-masked, _"Open the gates!"_

The gates of Thranduil's Halls groaned as they opened, revealing the forest. But on the Elven Road, they saw orcs standing in front of them, snarling and sneering at them. evil laughter filled their ears and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thorontur's hand steadily getting even more tighter around his sword.

"_Steady!" _Thranduil ordered, knowing full well his people were most likely giving the same reaction. But he had no wish to start a fight with the gates open. This was a peaceful meeting, and he did not want the elves to be the first to draw their swords. And he needed to know where his spy was.

One of the orcs stamped up towards them. The guards stood at the gates, watching with alertness every move of the orc. Thranduil guessed he was an officer of some sort, with the dirty mail sporting dried blood. Frayed ropes hung from the orc's belt. His face was mutilated, with the tip of his nose missing and the scars on his face making him look as if it were frozen in a horrible grin. Thranduil controlled himself from recoiling at the sight.

"You have finally opened your gates, cowardly king." The orc sneered, lips baring his blackened teeth. "It is abou' time."

"You had something to say to us." Thranduil said. His voice was even, though he could not keep the disgust out of his tone. He raised his eyes to meet the eyes of one of the wardens of the gate. He inclined his head just a fraction and the warden understood immediately. The gates groaned shut. He could hear the howls of the orcs outside them. Strong as his Halls may be, an overwhelming number of orcs can overcome it. Orcs can climb. So can spiders.

The orc tilted his head in a predatory fashion, like a vulture regarding its feast.

"Why do you hide?" The orc drawled, his voice raspy and low. "What will it be like, Elven-King? When your forest burns and your Halls are littered with the bodies of your people. When there is nothing left to protect and we behead you while you are seated upon your throne."

"I have not let you in to hear your whispers!" Thranduil snarled. "Speak what you have come to say, filth! Or I will have you tossed over the walls to join your kind!"

The orc's grin became wider, and Thranduil felt suspicion enter his heart at the thought that he had reacted just the way the orc wanted him to react. Then the orc's actions distracted him as he reached for the black rope. Then Thranduil felt sickened. It was not rope hanging from the orc's belt. It was hair, black in color and wavy, braided clumsily in a rope and evenly cut as if by force. The orc threw it towards him and Thranduil caught it cleanly. He opened his palm, feeling his heart break as he recognized who the hair could belong to. Beside him, he heard Fion's ragged breath and he knew that his age-old friend knew as well.

"We have your little spy." Thranduil slowly raised his eyes to look at the orc. "Surrender, and you will all die a quick death. Resist, and he will suffer slowly like all your subjects you abandoned."

Fion reached for his dual blades but Thranduil was faster.

The orc's laughter was cut short. He did not realize he did it, until the sword was in his hand, the naked blade gleaming as he swung it. The orc was beheaded, with the grin still plastered on the orc's face.

He picked up the head and bounded up the steps to the wall. He held it high. There was silence below him and the orcs sneered and shouted up at him. He heard Thorontur, Fion and Hanon bound up behind him.

"Hear me," Thranduil said, holding the head even higher for the orcs to see. The fell creatures howled and formed claws up at him as they saw the king stand straight and tall at the wall. "This will be your fate ere our time comes! Go back to your Master and do not return! You are not welcome here nor will you ever be! And be warned! I will always come to take what belongs to me! Take this as a warning ere you leave!" He threw the head towards them, seeing the orcs catch it.

"Loosen your arrows." Thranduil ordered the archers. "Drive them back!"

The captain gave the command of a volley. And the arrows were fired at will after that. Thranduil watched them retreat hastily, shouting at him in the Common Tongue and sometimes in their own as they did. Then one of them rose higher than the others.

"You will regret this, cowardly king! Hide in those Halls! They will be your grave!"

Thranduil leaned back, fighting to keep his composure. His grip tightened on the lock of hair.

"Thranduil?" He heard Thorontur say. He looked up, and saw the same look mirroring in his eyes, and that of Hanon and Fion who stood behind the advisor.

"Gather all soldiers, every elf capable of fighting." Thranduil spat. "We muster the whole army. And then we march unto the gates of Dol Guldur."

"My lord!"

The shout of an alarmed guard made them all turn around. From a distance, Thranduil could see small smoke waft up into the sky and realized what it meant.

The forest was burning.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Well... this is unexpected. Title is liable for a change though.

After the hacker problem in my stories, I was not expecting starting another story with Brothers At War. This one was egging me on so I decided to start with it.

All these years, I always wondered what happened behind-the-scenes at Mirkwood during the War. In ffn, I have seen a lot of stories depicting what was going on in Rohan or Gondor, but I personally what happened in Lake-Town and Dale, and Lonely Mountain as well as Mirkwood.

**Please review. :)**

**List of OCs:**

Fion- Commander of Rangers, Thranduil's close friend.

Hanon- Head Commander of Rangers.

Thorontur- Thranduil's loyal advisor. Warrior.


	2. Makings Of A Spy

**Chapter 1**

_Mirkwood,_

_Third Age,_

_After the Joining of the Fellowship,_

"Do not try it."

"I was not going to do anything." Thranduil protested, looking up from his desk where he sat, reading reports from the Rangers. His chief advisor did not bother looking over from his own paperwork, his quill scribbling uninterrupted on the parchment.

"I know you well enough, Sire, to recognize a plan forming in your head to abandon me here with all the work while you take off to do some hunting."

Thranduil sighed, defeated.

"You are a pain in the neck, Thorontur." Thranduil said, pushing the reports to the side and reaching out for newer ones. The advisor did not even dip his head in acknowledgement. Thorontur was an opposite of Thranduil in looks. He was taller than the king, thin with hawk-like features and straight black hair that fell freely down his shoulders. He had a dry personality that matched his dry features, though the pair of them together had developed a strange sort of friendship between them that started from the work they shared. While Thorontur was painfully strict when it came to following the rules and etiquettes of the court, he was also very trustworthy and loyal to Thranduil.

There were still times when Thranduil often wished to strangle the older elf, though. As if guessing his thoughts, Thorontur's voice rose up again.

"Do not try it." Thorontur said, still not bothering to look up from his papers. "I might turn the tables on you."

"I was only considering it." Thranduil replied. A faintest hint of a smile appeared on the elf's face. Thranduil looked back at the reports and realized to his dismay that he could not concentrate at all at the words.

"This is useless." Thranduil muttered, placing the reports back and getting up from his seat.

"Your son will be fine, Thranduil." Thorontur said quietly, understanding the main reason behind Thranduil's restlessness.

Thranduil straightened, and rubbed his face with his hands.

"He chose the Fellowship." Thranduil said wearily. Thorontur did not say anything. It was nothing he did not know before. "Thorontur, the Fellowship! With the One Ring in possession! Does he not realize the gravity of the situation? That ring-" he raised his face and looked at Thorontur. "I knew something was amiss with Bilbo the moment I set my eyes on him. I could not believe someone so small and insignificant could have gone through my Halls without my realization or that of the gate wardens unless it was something far more powerful than my scrutiny. And Legolas travelling in the very same company as that belonging to Halfling bearing this very Ring-"

"Do not fool yourself, Thranduil." Thorontur said flatly, putting down the reports on the desk and coming to Thranduil's own desk. He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk, looking at the King. "You were never one to worry much over Legolas' decisions. You trust him to make wise choices and though the father inside you worries over your beloved and only son, I know for certain something else worries you as well."

Thranduil sat back heavily in his chair.

"He is my son," he said after a long pause in a low tone. "he has my blood in his veins and he is the grandson of Oropher-"

Thorontur suddenly understood.

"You and your son-" Thorontur interrupted firmly. " are nothing what King Oropher was. And you know as well as I the choices that Oropher made during the Last Battle of the first War of the Ring was under duress and not entirely his own choices. Annatar- Sauron had some effect on him. you and I both know this."

"And what if I and Legolas both have the same weaknesses?"

"I will not hear another word of this." Thorontur said, getting away from the desk. "I have reports to do and other tasks to complete. I would advise you to do yours, 'Sire'."

Thranduil studied his advisor's profile. Thorontur had his back turned at him, and he noted the tense shoulders. He shook his head and reached for his own papers.

When his head was bent down, he did not notice Thorontur cast a concerned glance towards him.

oOo

The trees that surrounded Dol Guldur were dark and twisted in their nature. Their essences were corrupted and they took delight in all things sick and inhumane. They were the same in looks as the other trees that had light in them, with dark brown trunks and leave so deep a green that they were almost black. But there was darkness about them and they were hostile.

Their trust was hard to get, for they were suspicious and quick to anger. many elves had tried to gain their trust and few were able to get it, only to have the trees turn against them. these were strange, evil trees. Perhaps they could be changed, if the evil of Dol Guldur was wiped out of Mirkwood.

He sat comfortably among the boughs of one of these trees. He was hooded and cloaked, the inner light he was blessed with as one of the Firstborn well hidden. The trees found the light hurtful and burning and he took care with regards with them. Besides, it improved his stealth.

His keen eyes stared at the accursed city that once belonged to the wood-elves. It was built under the rule of Oropher, and it was his capital. At least, until they retreated and Sauron's forces took it from them. Now, the city was nothing as they remembered it to be, a place of laughter and peace. It was a place of living nightmare, with many elves imprisoned in it for centuries. He doubted many of them were alive, and even if they were, he knew they were barely alive, in torture for so long they would not even remember their names or who they were.

He had to find a way into the city.

There was a way. He used it countless times, but the secret passages were no very old and quite capable of crumbling. He had used it multiple times but he had been caught before already. He breathed in sharply. He remembered what happened after it, what the orcs did in torture. He refused to speak it to anyone.

He was still considering the idea of going in when one of the boughs of the dark tree he was in bent and caressed him gently.

_~Do not try it, Dolon.~ _It whispered, the words raspy and deep. It was devoid of light and joy. _~You will be caught like the last time.~_

Dolon. That was what they called him. He was barely a full-fledged Ranger the first time he came scouting this place. The dark trees caught him but he managed to befriend them. he had amused them the first time and they let him go. but his frequent visits and scoutings quickly befriended them. they had offered their help to him but he did not take it, or refused it. He was wary of them, knowing their quick killing instincts.

He sighed at the tree's words and leaned back on the trunk. He could not go in even if he wanted to. After his capture in the Second Age in Dol Guldur, it was the king's orders for him never to enter the passageways of Dol Guldur ever again. He could not go against his orders. In fact, he was not even supposed to be anywhere near Dol Guldur in the first place. In fact, Dolon grimaced, he was going to be in trouble if anyone even found out he was contemplating going there again. He shook his head, and then sung his legs over the bough and dropped down. He would have preferred going from treetop to treetop but he did not trust the dark trees for 'accidently' dropping him and breaking his neck. He patted the tree trunk absent-mindedly and walked away. He was not bothered by the orcs seeing him, for whatever was occurring in Dol Guldur was not so strong as to post patrols as of yet. He heard the trees' dry laughter in his head.

_~What is the matter, Dolon? Do you not trust us?~_

_~Not anymore as you would trust me.~ _Dolon replied, making the harsh laughter become louder. Then he turned and looked back at the walls of Dol Guldur, remembering all the elves that were entrapped there for centuries on end.

"_So close and yet so far." _He murmured in his breath and turned away, running nimbly to escape the area within the shooting distance. He had to take shelter with the trees that knew elves and were their friends quickly; no one should be near the dark trees for long.

oOo

Sure enough, he was in trouble when he returned to Thranduil's Halls.

It was evening when he made it to the gates. He pulled off his hood and cloth that concealed his lower half of face, smiling in relief when he did so. Black hair tumbled down his shoulders. He neared the gates of the Halls at an easy pace; he was in friendly territory now. The gates opened by the gate wardens and nodded in greetings at the wardens who saw him.

"What troubles do you bring with us?" One of them called out at him, half joking.

"I decided to leave all troubles in the forest for the time being." He shot back amiably, causing the warden to laugh and shake his head.

He ran his hands through his hair. He did not particularly enjoy braiding his hair, preferring to leave it freely flowing over his shoulders. He went straight for the Rangers' Quarters off the right side of the courtyard.

Thranduil's Halls was not completely inside the mountain. The gates were outside, bounding by high walls with heavy fortifications. It was more of a fortress in looks when observed by anyone standing outside. The guards were many and they patrolled the area vigilantly. They all stood in formation, singing in one voice. The gates opened into a courtyard before leading it directly into the mountains where Thranduil's Halls started in all its splendor and beauty.

There some main buildings inside the courtyard. The courtyard was large, for one thing. The Rangers' Quarters lay on the right side of the courtyard. It was a double building, with it also opening into the mountain and joining with Thranduil's Halls. On the left was the Warriors' Quarters, which had the same structure at that of the Rangers' Quarters. There were large practicing fields in the courtyard, open for use for all of the elves.

He moved quickly to the Rangers' Quarters, smiling a little at any whom he recognized or knew.

"Dorián is back!" the shout went up the moment he entered the Rangers' Quarters. The doors of the Quarters opened first into the main lounge before giving off multiple rooms on the sides. First came the sitting rooms and then the council rooms. The upper floor had many beds for any Rangers on duty and the healing wards for any who needed immediate attention and no time was to be wasted in going into Thranduil's Halls.

He turned and found many of his comrades sitting in one such room. Some were relaxing by the fire and others sat conversing on the carpets and chairs. Others were enjoying some time of their own, reading books in corners or humming to themselves some tune. All of them looked at him. He gave a wry look at the one who spoke first.

"I was not planning to leave, Nimon. I would not rob you of my company."

"It is a good thing you are back. We thought you might have found some trouble."

"Why does everyone think I have been looking for trouble?"

"You usually do look for trouble." Another pointed out.

"I do not!" Dorián retorted. "Trouble finds me!"

Their argument was just going to take an amusing turn when it was put to a halt when another Ranger clambered down the staircase quickly. It was Callon, one of the elder Rangers. He looked at Dorián.

"I knew it was your voice." The normally humorous Ranger said to Dorián. "You should go upstairs. Fion is waiting."

Dorián exhaled heavily. He felt Nimon lightly touch his shoulder and step back quietly. The sitting room was silent, full of uncomfortable looking Rangers trying to divert their attention elsewhere. Dorián reached the staircase but before he could climb it, he felt Callon stop him.

"And try to keep your temper in check this time." He said in Dorián's ear.

"There are no promises." Dorián replied shortly before climbing the staircase. He went up quickly, for he saw no reason to delay what he knew was going to happen.

The second floor of the Rangers' Quarters had many small rooms. Most of these rooms made up the healing ward but a few of them were for sleeping purposes. Seven of these rooms belonged to the seven commanders of the Rangers division of the Mirkwood Army. Caldor had one. Nimon had one as well. And Fion's room was among one of them.

He knew Fion was in his room, possibly seated in his chair facing the door waiting for him to open it. Dorián opened it with a heavy heart. He was extremely fond of Fion, who was like a second father to him. he was not going to enjoy what would happen.

As he predicted, Fion was seated facing the door. His elbows rested on his knees, lips pressed in a straight line just above his hands, fingers interlaced with each other. Fion's black hair was done in strict braids, his cheek bones looking very sharp with no strands of hair falling around his face to soften his features. He was angry, Dorián knew. The tense shoulders, the pressed lips and the furrow on his brow were signs he knew too well and had become familiar with recently.

There was silence between them. Dorián made no move to sit down and Fion made no move to speak. And then-

"Where have you been?" Fion's voice was deadly quiet, eyes looking forward but not making contact with Dorián.

"In the forest," he replied shortly. His own voice sounded tense. Fion did not miss his tone and he raised his eyes to meet Dorián's.

"Where in the forest exactly?" He asked, anger just brimming under the surface. Dorián knew that Fion knew precisely where he had been. Admitting it would not change the fact.

"That is not your concern."

"That is my conc- come back here." Fion added sternly as Dorián turned to leave. "Do not turn your back on me, boy!"

"Or what?" Dorián called out over his shoulder. "You cannot keep me caged more than you already have."

"Keep your insolence to yourself, lad!" Fion said, overcoming Dorián's speed and grabbing his shoulder. He turned him around and the two elves came face-to-face. One looked angry, the other was defiant. "I will not have you talking back to me, your former mentor!"

"You will be having it nevertheless!" Dorián snapped back. He pushed Fion's hand away. The veteran's anger intensified. "If you were half the mentor I knew you to be, I would not be stuck here, waiting for your every beck and call!"

"If you stopped acting like a spoiled elfling, I would not have to be keeping an eye on you!" Fion retorted. Dorián made a frustrated sound and walked away, reaching for the door that led into Thranduil's Halls.

"And just where are you going?"

"To the library!" Came Dorián's annoyed reply. "Or am I not to go there as well?"

Fion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing when he heard the door slam shut behind Dorián. Then he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He raised his head and looked. Hanon, the Head Commander, stood behind him.

"You heard?" Fion asked.

"Caldor called me. You both could be heard downstairs. Very clearly, in fact."

"I do not know what to do with him. He is not acting reasonably." Fion said, looking back at the closed door.

"He is a Ranger, Fion. Not an elfling to be protected. Both you and Thranduil must understand this. I knew he would be feeling restless."

"Yes, but does he really need to ask for returning to duty as a spy?"

"He feels he is best suited for it, Fion." Hanon said. "I would agree with him."

Fion opened his mouth to argue but Hanon lifted a hand to stop him.

"You and I both know that he is not one to sit idly. But you should know this better than I. you were the one to train him to use his best skills to benefit his people. Do not deny him his right. Besides, I think he feels useless doing something that seems mediocre to him. Legolas is out there escorting a Halfling to Mordor and he is here, loitering in the Halls in his free times and sitting amongst the trees in uneventful patrols."

"Are you saying you are going to speak to Thranduil and return him his duties?"

"Nay, I am saying 'you' should go and speak to him."

"If I do, Dorián will be smiling at me for an eternity."

"At least he would not be fighting with you at every turn."

"Where did I go wrong?" Fion muttered, mulling over his former apprentice. Dorián was moody and snappish for quite some time, ever since they returned from Imladris, where they had left Legolas to join the Fellowship.

"You never went wrong anywhere." Hanon said, with a strange tone in his voice. Fion looked at him and realized, to his annoyance, the Head Commander was trying hard not to 'laugh'.

"Keep your toothy grin off your face!" The veteran snarled.

"My 'toothy' grin is not on my face." Hanon protested, still smiling. Then the Head Commander laughed, completely unaffected by Fion's glare. "It will not work on me, my friend."

"There was a time when we were friends." Fion said, looking back at the door through which Dorián had gone. "He used to come to me for council. Now, we barely speak a few words to one another and that is enough to start a fight."

"Just leave him be for now. He will turn around. Come, I have some work to do and I need your help."

"You only want to distract me." Fion said dryly, letting Hanon turn him around and lead him (drag him) to the council rooms.

"Well, then, I hope it works." Hanon replied amiably.

Casting one backward glance, Fion decided to have a chat with Thorontur.

oOo

At night time, Thranduil was feeling decidedly tired. He did not think it was possible so he made excused and then retreated to his chambers. Remembering his advisor, he furrowed his brow and left instructions for his guard.

"Mithon, I am begging you to bar Thorontur from coming into my rooms." He told the guard standing outside his chambers.

"There is no need to beg, Sire." The guard said immediately, looking a little embarrassed at the friendly exaggeration of the king. "I would gladly follow your orders."

Thranduil clapped him on the shoulder, something he usually did with Mithon. He smiled at him before returning to his rooms. Mithon was a good guard, he thought to himself. He was dedicated, though he usually did not know his footing around him and Thorontur, or any of the other commanders, in fact. The poor guard usually got a load of teasing, but Thranduil was impressed that he bore it well.

He heard conversation outside and recognized voices, one belonging to Mithon and the other unfortunately belonging to his advisor. Feeling a little annoyed, he returned to the door and opened it, only to find both elves arguing.

"Let him in, Mithon." Thranduil said, wearily. "He will not give me any rest until he gets his way."

Mithon wordlessly moved to the side and Thorontur entered.

"There was a time when he used to be intimidated by the very thought of refuting us." Thorontur muttered.

"I am glad that is no longer the case, though I should give him more power in stopping anyone who is adamant of seeing me. Now," Thranduil said, cutting off Thorontur's retort before he even spoke. "What was it that needed my attention so urgently?"

"Dorián." Thorontur replied, sitting down on one of the chairs facing the fireplace. Thranduil's face grew serious and he took the place in front of Thorontur.

"He has been acting impulsive for the past few days." Thorontur said. "Fion spoke to me of him. He suspects Dorián has been prowling around Dol Guldur."

Silence fell between the King and the advisor.

"Well, I would not blame him." Thranduil said at last. "He was a spy and he was used to that life. Taking away his duty of stealth and gathering information would certainly not sit well with him."

"You know the dangers of sending him back." Thorontur said with grim finality.

Thranduil knew it well. Dorián had already been captured multiple times by the orcs of Dol Guldur, back in the Second Age. He was well known by them now. They had been able to rescue him, or he had escaped himself all those times. The last time he had been captured, they had been the ones to rescue him. And Thranduil knew well what Dorián looked like when he came out. He was pale, thin, and unable to bear the light of the sun. He bore the marks of everything he had gone through at Dol Guldur. When Dorián finally recovered, he spoke to no one of what he had faced or seen during his time in imprisonment. When they asked, he told them to leave it be.

"What would you have me do?" Thranduil said at last. "I cannot keep him back forever. He has been impulsive and reckless since his childhood. He is good in spying and stealth and he has been trained into it, in fact. I could not simply rely on him to continue following his orders."

"You cannot possibly be thinking of returning his duties to him!"

"You are a Warrior yourself, Thorontur. In times like these, we need all capable hands. And I have a feeling we might need him in this War."

"Thranduil," Thorontur said slowly, as if trying to make his King understand. "He might be captured once again. The orcs know him far too well now. If he is recaptured and tortured or killed-"

"Are you asking me to shelter him?"

"I am asking you not take this lightly!"

"I am not taking this lightly!" Thranduil snapped, his temper breaking. "I have never taken 'any' of my people's safety lightly!"

An uncomfortable silence fell. Thorontur spoke at length, "Forgive me. I did not mean to question you."

"I know you did not." Thranduil said, recovering his composure. "But questioning one another will do nothing except bring us closer to our own ruin. I will speak to Fion myself. What Dorián will do or what his duties will be will now be my own decision. None of you are to advise me on the best course of action from here on. I will speak to Dorián and I will come up with a conclusion. I cannot keep only one elf in mind, Thorontur. I have a kingdom to take care of and I must see my people alive when this War is done. And I will take the actions I think must be taken for it."

"Would Sauron really consider us in this War? None of his messengers approached us yet."

"You forget what happened in the Second Age when we knew him as Annatar. Pure defiance against him is not something he easily forgets. He will for sure remember us."

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Ok... which one of you guys prayed that I update this quickly? :P I came down with an upset stomach and have an ORS bottle with me. Anyway, I thought I should update this. :P

Now, on this first chapter. I had three or four ways of taking this story. I briefly considered the idea of started from before the capture of Smeagol but it did not really sit well with me. We already have Legolas' accounts on what happened and it was far too cliché for me to start from there. I thought of starting it in Imladris just as Legolas joins the Fellowship but that was risking the development of Mirkwood in the story and all the OCs as well. Another idea was to start it with Dain but I am not yet confident to do dwarves and you guys already know I prefer to stick to elves.

Now, on the chapter itself, I know it may be a little boring than what you see in the Prologue but you saw a heated moment in the prologue. The chapters will build up steadily. And do not worry, you will see Dain and the dwarves, Lake-town and Dale and all the good stuff shortly.

You must have also got an insight a little bit into Dorian. As an OC, I had always thought of him as a complicated character. He has gone through a lot and yet he smiles and jokes, but sometimes, all of that is nothing but a façade. Dorian is a free bird as I depict him in my stories. I would share more but I think you will realize what I mean in the coming chapters.

I know there is a hint of unease but this is just before the War, folks. All the point of views belong to those who are directly linked to military.

Wow, a lot of you are enthusiastic for this story. o.O'' **TIME TO BRING OUT THE MARY-SUES, PEOPLE!**

Ouch! Ouch! That was a joke, a joke!

Excuse any mistakes, please. I try to keep a tight rein on my writing but as a dental student, I barely have time for myself, let alone rechecking my works.

Do leave a review!

**List of OCs:**

Fion- Commander of Rangers. Former mentor of Legolas and Dorian. Thranduil's closest friend.

Hanon- Head Commander of Rangers. Fion's friend.

Nimon- Commander of Rangers. Legolas' and Dorian's age fellow and friend.

Thorontur- Warrior. Thranduil's loyal advisor.

Mithon- Thranduil's guard.

Caldor- Fion and Hanon's age fellow. One of the elder Rangers.

**Replies to reviews: (I would reply but my health is a little out of sorts. Sincere apologies but I have read each and every review and thank you so much for taking the time to post one!:) )**


	3. Orc's Blade At Night

Chapter 2

It was the dead of the night. The city was silent. It was peaceful. The sentries guarding the city walls were sleepy. They were utterly and completely relaxed. After all, what danger was there?

They had all heard whispers, whispers of Sauron's messenger to the Lonely Mountain. They had heard rumors of forces gathering in the East. But they were so far from Mordor that the thought of any evil coming to their lands was almost unimaginable.

Dol Guldur was an evil place, of course. But it was within the elves' domain. What force could defeat the elves? One of the guards yawned widely, slumping against the spear in his hand.

The city of Dale was beautiful, with tall buildings and tiled roofs. There were vast trumpets on the guard towers to raise the alarm if the need ever arose. The streets were paved and well made with cobblestones. The stables were clean by the city gates and there was no foul scent in the air. There were dainty gardens in front of people's houses, full of colorful flowers and not a weed in sight. There was the fresh cool air coming down from the mountains, settling the peaceful atmosphere.

In the king's mansion, Brand tossed uneasily in his bed. His sleep was full of vivid dreams. He had spoken to Daín's messenger that evening and what the dwarf had to say now wracked his dreams. He was in a world of torture and pain. He could see his comrades lie on the ground, wounded. He looked for Thranduil, but the Elvenking was nowhere in sight. The elves had their own battles to fight in their forest.

The dream was so vivid, in fact that he finally shot awake. Hands reached for the knife underneath his pillow but it was not from the dream.

He was not alone in his room.

He heard the incoherent snarls and yips from the goblin squatting on the ground not far from his bed, his dirty blade in his hand. Then, with an extremely fast speed, the goblin lunged at him. Brand rolled away, brandishing his knife though he knew it would not hold against the goblin's sword. He grabbed a table and threw it in the goblin's direction. He was always extremely strong, capable of killing with his bare hands. He relied on that strength now. The table crashed into the goblin, making it lose its balance and stumble. It was enough time for Brand to reach for his sword resting on his weapons stand. He drew out his sword, the metal ringing as it left its scabbard. He turned towards the goblin, face set in grimness.

"I should have known this would have happened." Brand said quietly, his stance strong.

The goblin shrieked and lunged towards him. Brand sidestepped easily, letting the goblin pass him by. Then before the goblin could turn, he ran his sword right through him. The goblin gave a violent shudder and fell on the floor in its death throes.

Brand looked at the dying creature. He heard hasty footsteps and then his door swung open. His son, a man in his mid-thirties, was standing in the doorway with a naked sword. He wore a half-tucked shirt with his breeches, his hair still tousled with sleep.

"I am glad you can make it in time." Brand said casually, reaching for a kerchief on the mantelpiece and calmly wiping his sword clean.

"Father, this is nothing to joke about!" Bard shot back, kneeling near the dead goblin. He regarded it and then glanced up at his father. "Are you hurt, father?"

"I am stronger than you give me credit for, Bard." Brand said, re-sheathing his sword. Bard shook his head. Brand was a strong man, an impassive man. Nothing ever fazed him much. He shrugged off all emotions and feelings, though he had a strong affection for his only son. Bard turned to the guards lingering in the doorway.

"Go and check all perimeters of the city. See to it that not more goblins have penetrated our walls. Remove the corpse. And awaken some servants and have this cleaned." The guards nodded and left. "And I am going to have a word with the sentries." Bard muttered under his breath. "This would not have happened if they had not been so lax on their duty."

"Perhaps a lesson taught is a lesson well learned." Brand said, his voice naturally deep and heavy. Bard's lips twitched. His father had a sense of humor beneath his seriousness.

"I will see to it that a lesson is taught then." Bard replied. Then he grew serious when he looked back at the corpse. A few guards entered the room and bowed their heads to the king and prince, proceeded to remove the body. Bard and Brand moved away to the window, watching them. Then Bard spoke, in hushed tones, "I do not understand what it would accomplish by this." He said, referring to the orc. "It was not an officer, but a common soldier."

"Oh, it would not have killed me. Rather, it was already obvious, I would kill it."

"What do you mean?"

"This orc was not here to assassinate me. It was here to be a warning of what happens to those who go against Sauron's will." Brand said, mentally pushing away the scenes of his dreams that were still fresh in his memory.

"Bard, I want you to send messenger to King Thranduil first thing in the morning. He and I need to talk."

oOo

_~I am sorry.~_

_~Go away.~ _Thranduil growled, tossing over and burying his head under the pillow.

_~I am sorry.~ _The voice insisted.

_~Heavens, boy, are you listening to me!~_

_~Father,~ _the voice whined. To a stranger it would sound abused and forlorn. But Thranduil was not fooled. As mischievous as his son was, he could sense traces of impudence in Legolas' voice. Thranduil raised his head out of the covers long enough to see dawn breaking outside his window. He groaned and burrowed into his covers.

_~It is too early to get entertained by one of your tricks, youngling.~ _Thranduil muttered.

_~You are starting to sound like Fion.~ _Legolas said, his voice returning to normal and losing that accurse whine that Thranduil hated.

_~I should have taught you to hold your tongue.~ _Thranduil told him. _~Where are you?~ _Thranduil asked, searching his son's mind to find out where he was. But Legolas kept his mind carefully shielded, and he could find nothing.

_~Boy!~ _He scolded.

_~If you know where I am, you would worry.~_

_~I would worry even if you would not tell me.~ _Thranduil protested.

_~True, but if you knew where I am, I would get scolded as well.~ _Legolas replied.

_~Such insolence-~_

_~That is me.~ _Legolas corrected. _~What are you doing in bed still?~_

_~I am currently trying to avoid my well-meaning advisor.~_

_~I thought you were the one to say that Thorontur was a good elf.~_

_~Right now, my patience is breaking and he might find himself in the dungeons.~_

_~Come now, he cannot be that bad.~ _Legolas said. Then Thranduil sensed his son's mood become serious. _~Father, are you truly angry with me?~_

Thranduil sighed. _~I am never angry with you, little one. But I worry about you. This Ring-~_

_~I am not my grandfather-~ _Legolas interrupted firmly.

_"Thranduil, are you awake?" _He heard Thorontur's voice outside his door. Thranduil groaned loudly, Legolas' laughter ringing in his mind.

_"No," _Thranduil said peevishly. The door opened, and Thorontur entered calmly, as if he did not hear his king's word.

_~You sound like an elfling.~ _Legolas said, voice still quivering with amusement.

_~Get out of my head and make yourself useful to your Fellowship. Go on. GET!~_

He felt his son laugh and his presence touch his affectionately in farewell before retreating.

"Rise, my lord." Thorontur said. "We have some work to do."

Thranduil sighed and pulled back his covers. He suspected his work was not just 'some' of it.

oOo

_"I am going to give you a fair warning." _Thranduil told Thorontur, wearily reaching for another stack of papers. _"I might throw you in the dungeons soon."_

_"I am glad your mood is better already since yesterday." _Thorontur said.

_"I still hate being in the Study. I could do so much more outside this room."_

_"If there is a war, then I do not think you would be in the Study for long." _Thorontur said seriously.

_"I am not saying I want a war. I simply want something interesting than these reports."_

_"What would you like then?"_

_"Anything-" _Thranduil started to say.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and he saw his faithful guard enter.

_"My Lord," _Mithon said, stepping into the king's study. _"A messenger has arrived from Dale. He wishes to speak to you."_

Thranduil brightened immediately but his heightened mood vanished immediately at Mithon's next words.

_"King Brand was nearly killed last night. He is well and unharmed though the goblin suffered the worst fate. He has a message for you."_

_"Anything but that," _Thranduil completed his answer to Thorontur's question.

The advisor laughed.

oOo

The messenger that had come was wearing red tunic over full-sleeved white shirt. The knee-length of his tunic had brown breeches underneath it. He wore a dark cloak, thrown back from his shoulder with a brooch holding his cloak in place. He wore a pointed hat, with a plumped feather on it. Though the messenger wore no armor, he wore a slim knife at his belt. Thranduil grimaced at the bold colors of his clothes. It was too visible in the forest. Had the messenger been greeted by the orcs, he would not have any help of stealth.

The man was standing when Thranduil entered the throne room. When he saw the Elvenking, he stood at attention and gave a bow, though less deep than he would have had for his king.

"King Thranduil," the man said.

"I trust my kitchens quenched your thirst and fulfilled your hunger." Thranduil said, noting the freshness in the messenger.

"Aye, I thank you for your hospitability."

Thranduil inclined his head in acceptance of his gratitude.

"My guard told me about King Brand. He says you bore a message for me."

The messenger pulled out a sealed letter and held it out for the King.

"He said this is to be read as quickly as possible."

Thranduil looked at him and then glanced down at the sealed letter.

"My people will take you to one of our guest rooms. Take some rest while I look for a suitable reply."

The messenger nodded. One of the elves tapped the man lightly on his shoulder and led him away.

Frowning down at the letter, he noticed Brand's own writing on it. Then he broke the seal. And he ran over its contents. It was short but it was well done.

"King Thranduil,

Forgive the urgency and the short length of my letter. I did not think to trouble you with this but recent events changed my decisions.

A few days before, I received a messenger from Dol Guldur. (Thranduil's blood ran cold) I did not wish to alert you on this when I was fully capable to handle the issue. Daín and I had spoken at length on this.

Until now, I regarded the situation lightly, but last night, I was sent a 'warning'. A goblin tried to kill me in the dead of the night and I would tell you to be careful. I am sure you will get a messenger from Dol Guldur.

King Brand of Dale."

_"Wonderful," _Thranduil muttered under his breath, closing the letter.

oOo

When Oropher and Thranduil came to Mirkwood, then Greenwood, they had been welcomed. Oropher became their king and the first thing he did was to develop their army. The Rangers took on many apprentices with Legolas. And that generation was full of many elves with natural talents.

There was Nimon, quick and agile. He was light in manner, with reckless jests and easy-going attitude. But he was lethal killer, quite capable of dealing with orc captains and generals silently and quickly without getting caught.

Then there was Noron. Shy and quiet Noron. He was Hanon's first and only apperentice. His powers were extraordinary, though his looks were unassuming.

And then there was Dorián. He was apprenticed under Fion and from the beginning he showed uncanny skill in stealth and gathering information. It was raw skill that Fion noticed and then nurtured and cultivated. Now Dorián was a legendary spy. He was wel-known for his skill among all the elves of Imladris, Mirkwood and Lothlorien, though his suspected that Dorián did not know how far word reached on his skill. It was better that way, though. Dorián was easily embarrassed.

The Ranger was sitting on one of the cushions in the Library, leaning against the wall with his legs curled against him. he had an open book balanced on his knees. Dorián looked positively sulky, in spite of peaceful atmosphere of the Library. An elleth went to him with a goblet in her hand. She touched his shoulder lightly, drawing his attention and offered him the drink. He smiled and took it with a nod of thanks. He took a sip, looking back at his book, his mood comparatively better. Thranduil walked up to him.

_"Dorián," _he greeted the younger elf. He sat on the cushion beside him.

_"My lord," _Dorián replied warily. _"Did Fion send you?"_

Thranduil chuckled.

_"I can come and go on my own accord as well, youngling."_

_"I am sorry." _Dorián said immediately.

_"There is nothing to apologize." _Thranduil said, sitting back comfortably. They sat silently for a while and then Thranduil spoke at length. _"There are many gifts that we are blessed with. Some are stronger than others. And we must use them or keep them under control as the time demands."_

Dorián's body was stiff.

_"I assume you are telling me to stay away from prowling in the woods."_

_"I did not say that." _Thranduil replied. He took a deep breath and exhaled. _"There are times when we are needed, in spite of the concerns of our loved ones. Fion worries about you."_

_"He treats me like a youngling!"_

_"He treats you like a son." _Thranduil said. _"Your father was captured by the orcs of Dol Guldur. Fion lost his son long before he took you and Legolas into apprenticeship. He worries for you. You have not spoken about your imprisonment in Dol Guldur… of any of your times."_

_"I do not wish to speak of it." _Dorián said flatly.

_"I know you do not want to. But I cannot allow you to return to your duties if I do not know how you are."_

_"I am fine." _Dorián protested.

_"That is not what I meant." _Thranduil said. _"I would put you into the field. It would do me great good. But at the end of all of this, Dorián, I do want you broken at the end of this. All the torture and the pain that you went through…"_

Dorián was quiet. They both knew that Thranduil and Oropher had seen him soon after being freed from Dol Guldur, wounded with broken ribs that recovered slowly.

_"I do not want a Ranger under my command to lose himself in his work. Nor do I want my Ranger to throw himself recklessly into foolish incidents."_

_"I never did anything like that."_

_"I am not saying you did, Dorián." _Thranduil said. _"But you must understand that we are worried of sending you into battle. You have an extraordinary gift but as wonderful as it is, I value your life more than your talent in stealth and gathering information."_

_"I will be of no use to you if I am staying here. You know this." _Dorián said. _"You need Rangers and Warriors on the front lines, with all the best qualities invested to help you fight. You know this. And I want to do my part in defending my people."_

Thranduil studied him for a long while. Then he spoke, _"Do you still remember the catacombs of Dol Guldur?"_

Dorián blinked.

_"I do not remember all of them but I can refresh my memory if I look at the maps for Dol Guldur here in the library."_

_"Good. Take a look of them and speak to me tomorrow morning."_

_"Wait," _Dorián said incredulously. _"Are you letting me return to my duties?"_

_"Aye," _Thranduil felt weariness set in his bones at the large grin forming on his face. _"Do not gloat with Fion." _He cautioned. _"He will have my head."_

_"You will not regret it." _Dorián promised.

_"I never regretted your service." _

Now, all that he needed to do was to speak to Fion.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

First off... AAAAAAAAARGH!

That is cry of frustration at the look of so many mistakes in the previous chapters. Oh do not worry, the chapter is fine but the spelling! Yikes! I will try to correct it sometime but right now, my studies call me back.

This chapter had a little bit of lightness to it. The reason why Legolas did not speak to Thranduil about his whereabouts is that he knew his father would worry about him instead of focusing on his people.

On Brand. Excuse me while I pat myself on the back. I am quite happy how he turned out but constructive criticism is very welcome.

Oh and this was my first time from a mortal's point of view! :D Brothers At War does not count.

Now, on the orc. I already warned you all how this story is going to play out, so I am really not going to warn you all (y'all) again because I might bore you. XD

You guys are finding bit by bit about Dorian as well, I see. :)

You guys are great for leaving reviews and please keep reviewing! :D

**Please leave a review!**

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